Bittersweet Symphony
by Tranquilized-Alias
Summary: AU: Harry’s turn was the end of his life as a complicated mime trapped in a box. No more was he the naive boy who followed without question; with power and strength comes a realization that Harry didn't need a side. -Vampire-fic - HPLL Non-Slash
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer: If you think I own Harry Potter or any of the concepts of this story then you need your head checked severely. I can't even hold dibs on the plot considering how many HP Fanfic stories are there out there. It's just fun and no money or copyright infringement is intended. **_

Title: Bittersweet Symphony

Rating: T-M

Pairing: Harry/Luna

Summary: Harry's turn was the end of his naïve nature to their manipulations, the end of the haunting nightmares that lay in the dreamscape of life for he became a nightmare and no longer was he a puppet connected to strings of two tyrant sorcerers.

_**NOTE BEFORE YOU READ, it is IMPORTANT!**_: (gasps) This, is a _**heterosexual**_ story. The first one I have written since I was thirteen-years-old and I'm _quite_ a bit older than that now.

_**Key Note:**_ NO, this is _**NOT **_a Twilight Crossover, However, I am taking the creation of the VAMPIRES used and planting it in the HP world but there WILL be a few exceptions and _I'll bend the rules as I see fit_.

Now, onto the _**warnings**_.

_**WARNINGS:**_ DARK Vampire Harry, Mild sexual situations ( I am not doing graphic but there will be a little bit of stuff here and there.) There will be blood, gore, violence, slight OOC considering Harry IS dark. Alternate Universe with a few tainted bits of canon here and there. Adult Language and other stuff I can't think of. Now, onto the story. _**YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**_

**oOo**

**B****ittersweet Symphony**

**By: Amanda**

**Prologue**

Cold.

He always despised the cold weather because it never bode well for him; from sprayed streetlight footpath of Magnolia Crescent fifteen-year-old Harry James Potter turned his attention to the dark purple and black sky. It was tainted, he could see traces of the moon hidden behind landscapes of sculpted clouds and perhaps this had been his only warning.

Perhaps it had been a sign from whatever it was that watched over him to turn on his heel and rush back to the cramped little house on Privet Drive.

Frowning slightly, Harry shook his head, although he didn't believe in omens, too much had happened in his past and he never had a warning before so why would they start now? Even if they did exist, Harry doubted that they would watch over him.

Dropping his gaze from the sky he outlined his shadow as he began his nightly walk toward the locked up park that was vandalized more often than not. He vaulted over the fence easily enough and found the lone rusty chained swing that swayed in the chilly breeze.

It was July and it was cold.

Before, July had been a nice month, not because it signaled his birthday, he didn't care about that one single bit, no one else had so why should he? No, July signaled warmth, even in the depths of the night a warm wind would seize him and it was then that Harry knew he could get through another summer with relatives like them.

To be honest, Harry Potter was vastly annoyed and felt the need to vent. It all led up to what happened less than a month ago.

It wasn't Voldemort, although the man weighed heavily on his mind considering his scar liked to abuse him like fire to the skin but because of his situation.

He wasn't arrogant enough to call himself a saviour no matter what the Magical World thought. One minute he was their precious bespectacled boy-who-lived and the next he was cursed like a demon, even his own friends had turned their back on him at one point in time.

But he knew that it was childish immaturity that caused that. Ron, his best friend was still a child and Hermione while she had a mature mind when it came to the 'facts of life.' She was ultimately dimwitted when it came to human nature. She was still a _child_ with an adult vocabulary.

They had never witnessed the horrors Harry had and maybe just maybe he was a tad bit jealous of it but that was not what truly bothered him.

No, what had bothered him was a certain someone he looked up too.

Albus Dumbledore.

Harry knew he was only a man: a wise one? Yes, most definitely so. A cunning one? Mhmm, more than wise, he had thought multiple times but the one factor that really drove him to near insanity was the games. He spun them like a spider spinning her web and he captured them, ensnaring and feasting until there was nothing left.

He hunched over and pressed his elbows to his knees and stared at the worn grass that his feet stomped all over every time the swing shifted into a slow rhythm.

Harry knew that he was stuck and that's where everything lay. He could do nothing but watch like a marionette and do what those long fingers holding the strings made him do. He wondered at times if the things he had done through the years had been his own doing or was it those strings attached to the clefts of his joints. He wondered if they forced him to act and even say because of the box he had been placed in.

Or was he a mime rather than a marionette? He had a mask and couldn't speak, his hands continued to run along the invisible glass walls with no way out.

What was the difference? They both wound up painted, they both wound up controlled, like a Grand Symphony following the instruction of their composer blindly.

Harry had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed the bristle of the bushes or the appearance of a tall statuesque figure of a woman with spirals of brown hair falling over her thin frame and she looked all but human. Even if he had noticed, he wouldn't have been able to do anything anyway.

What he did notice was when she got right up in his face, burning eyes of burgundy stared unblinkingly with a porcelain face of deadly beauty. He took no notice of anything else as he was ensnared and her hair was the last thing he saw as she moved in for the kill.

His eyes snapped shut, glasses tumbling off with a crack as he threw his head back, the skin of his neck was pierced by a razor sharp mouth that looked completely normal and he felt nothing for all of two seconds when a torrent of flames set him ablaze by a strange sort of fuel that caused the scream to escape his mouth before he could muffle it.

It was worse than the Cruciatus Curse and haunting as he was gripped by something cold and cast iron like. He began to convulse, shuddering violently as his eyes snapped open unseeing the sky that seemed to turn a hazy blood right and he could vaguely feel the trickle of liquid run down his neck soaking his oversized t-shirt in a crimson flood.

All of this transpired in mere seconds but felt like an age of agony for the woman or creature rather began to heave and she threw herself back with a dangerous speed hitting the fence harshly causing it to come crashing down as if she weighed more than ton.

Harry doubled over onto his knees, there was a haze before him but he could just make the female out, she was barbaric, her moves unpredictable and her burgundy eyes rolled.

"M - Magic," she gagged. "_You_ – Magic, burns! Burns!" She grabbed her throat like she was trying to rip her own head off.

Harry moaned as the pain flared through him, engulfing his whole body like he had entered hell. He rolled onto his back and tried desperately to rub against the cold earth and make it disappear. He writhed in agony as he heard the attacker's moans of pain as she too fell forward but she made a loud thud to the ground making her sink just a little into the depths of cold ground.

As Harry heard the last of her cries, his entire body sank into a deep blackness filled with an untimely pain and he hoped to God that it would end and that he would see death.

He could only hope, only wish and his last thought before everything went blank was that perhaps the Angel of Death had sought him out.

**oOo**

Quiet and soft sheets of wind blew across the earth's sky, something wet and warm sprinkled onto the body of the still figure laying below a squeaky swinging chain.

When Harry Potter came too, he felt as if he had fallen asleep and had a very nasty dream that was until he breathed and cold air whistled hollowly down his throat.

His eyes snapped open at the exact same time that fuzzy distorted memories of last night took place in his mind's eye.

Pain. It was the most prominent figure in this whole equation. He sat up, not knowing just how fast he had done it and he peered around him well aware of the massive bright color and detail spreading across his line of sight. He gasped as he continued to see far beyond the trees of the park into the roads of the next several streets.

He heard the cars passing by and he darted his eyes all around trying to find something to lock in on and to focus but his mind was spinning, it was moving too fast.

He felt good though, there was no pain from last night, nothing.

"Harry Potter," wheezed a voice causing him to snap his head much too quickly to the side to see a weak woman laying a few yards away and part of the gate that had been around the park having collapsed.

Flashes of her flying into it and clutching her throat came back to him and he narrowed his eyes. "What the hell did you do to me?" he snarled feeling a coil of vicious rage seer into like a lava current. His voice sounded older, more mature with a dark timber quality that caused the woman's red eyes to dilate.

"You are beautiful."

"Fuck you!" Harry hissed out suddenly and then gasped when he realized that, it wasn't like him to curse. In fact, it wasn't like him to feel so angry he wanted to rip her head off, nor was it like him to want to hurt a woman. His narrowed eyes sharpened as she reached out to him.

"Cold one, you have turned into one of us, I did not know you were a wizard," she whispered in a raspy pathetic sort of voice that made Harry want to finish her off.

"Cold one?" Harry spun around and jumped to his feet and peered down at the ground that was a lot further down than he remembered. "What the hell did you do to me? Answer me woman!" he ordered harshly causing her to smile like a fading moon.

"Vampire," she answered and as it rolled off her reddened lips, Harry staggered back and gripped the chain of the swing only to smash it into the pieces. She giggled musically and managed to get onto her knees, she swept her hair behind her back. "Your blood is delicious," she hissed licking her lips. "But it is poison to our kind. How you survived being a wizard, I will never know. I am dying my body is slowly deteriorating, your blood is countering my venom."

"My blood is not totally my own," Harry answered icily enough to freeze the atmosphere around him.

"You will thirst, you will hunger, and you will attack," she rolled on as she fell to the ground and turned onto her back. Her chest heaved from beneath the tan thin layer of clothing she wore. She stared into the sky. "I am breathing humanly for the first time in over a hundred years… it is the end for me but a beginning for you," she said offhandedly.

She waved her hand lazily in the air. "I do not know, what happens if a wizard is turned, I have never seen a result. I only _heard_ they die along with those who attacked, but you're healthy…" she said mysteriously. "You will be strong, watch your strength, watch your speed, and watch your hunger. The sun is beautiful but don't step directly into it, it won't burn, just dazzle a bit but it will leave every nasty human gazing at you like a side show circus." Her words were care less and they seemed to roll away from her instinctively.

"What's your name?" Harry asked evenly.

"Juliana," she murmured. "I have no surname or if I did, I do not remember. Good-bye -?"

"Harry," he answered, "Harry Potter."

She barked out a laugh that sounded like a thousand musical bells moving in sync with one another. "Good-bye Harry Potter, enjoy immortality," she said peering up at him from where she lay. "Hide your eyes or everyone in your world will know what you've become."

She was silent after that, her head tilted to the side, gone completely.


	2. Chapter One

**Bittersweet Symphony**

**By: Amanda**

**Chapter One**

Sight.

Speed.

Strength.

Hearing.

Hunger.

Fear.

_Panic!_

Harry Potter found his throat burning as if someone had dumped Firewhisky into his mouth. Although, he'd never had Firewhisky but whatever had the word _fire_ in it, was a perfect example! He was hungry and he felt a pull as his eyes narrowed on the passing woman with a small boy. He could smell and hear the blood in their veins, behind that sheet of tender skin. His teeth snapped together and he reared back as if to pounce but his mind came to a screeching halt before his feral instincts could grab a hold of him.

Oh, he was hungry. What did he do? He couldn't kill an innocent person! He couldn't watch the life drain out of a little boy or a mother screaming for the mercy of her child. He felt guilt but he didn't feel sick like he normally would, nothing inside of him stirred or clenched. It seemed that all of his feelings were revolving around his head, around what he knew was right and wrong.

Did he even have a heart anymore?

Harry peered down at the bloodied shirt instinctively and knew his own answer to that question.

He had a heart but it had stopped.

He turned away and held his breath. It was uncomfortable, he didn't exactly need to breathe but it was nice. It was an hour before he breathed out and hissed as scents rolled down his hollow throat flaring him to life.

_Fuck!_ Harry hissed inwardly. _What did he do? What did he do?_ He chanted over and over in his mind. The scents left him only to be replaced by another scent, one very close by and clearly of blood.

He purred softly as footsteps neared.

_Take, take! Eat, fulfill_. A non-existent voice chanted in his mind. It revolved around him like a disco ball.

He tried to refuse, he tried to say no, this couldn't happen, he couldn't… but his legs and arms sprung before he could hold them and he pounced onto the back of a squealing human. Instant instincts, told Harry to shut him up and he effectively snapped his hand over the boy's mouth and heard a crack of his jaw break before sinking his teeth into the easy to break flesh and he moaned in pleasure as liquid of sensational delicacy flooded his mouth. The thrill of the hunt, the kill, his prey, all his…

It was a high, like an addiction to a drug. His eyes began to sharpen and everything around him began to come back into focus and he gasped as he dropped the figure that he drained and it fell with a plop to the grass.

He cast glances around, using his hearing to make sure he wasn't spotted before pulling the person into the bushes with him to conceal him. He closed his eyes as he deftly flipped the person over and when he reopened them he shot back in horror, back hitting a tree hard enough to make it vibrate and snap.

He stared.

"Shit," he hissed. Irony of it all, he thought blandly as he stared down at the lifeless form of his cousin.

He rubbed a hand over his face and flicked the blood that was still glittering. He draped his hands over his knees and continued to stare on, wondering why he felt panicked and not guilt.

He never had much love for Dudley Dursley but never did Harry want to kill the boy. Well, okay, scratch that maybe he had thoughts but they were just passing frustrations.

He peered up into the hazy clouded sky, his mind rolling with what to do in this situation. He remained still like a statue for how long he did not know but finally, he sighed with resolve.

There was no use dwelling on it now, he thought, what was done was done and there was no undoing it.

Instead, Harry began to plot. Somehow, he had to get a hold of his appetite, he couldn't go into a frenzy like he had before and he knew that if he was partially satiated that he could probably control it. He had resisted killing several people before this one showed up.

Harry looked at it carelessly. He couldn't use magic in fear of the Ministry, he didn't need them on his back at the moment. The best thing he could do was perhaps wait till night fall and haul Dudley off into a more secluded area; a place that he didn't roam at night and perhaps set a bonfire and burn him before burying him. He would make it impossible to be traced back to him. If his body was charred, they wouldn't be able to tell that he had a high amount of blood loss.

The human instincts were telling him that it was wrong but the creature that he was told him that it was survival. Harry Potter was human no longer and he shouldn't pretend to be something he wasn't.

Hadn't he been complaining about this very thing before this shit happened? All that was needed was that he would have to control his thirst. He could not keep killing around his streets. If the Ministry of Magic got wind of it – or Dumbledore.

_For Merlin's sake! _Harry thought in disgust. _How the fuck would Dumbledore not find out?_ He rolled through his options before settling on the only idea that came to mind. He had to get to Knockturn Alley. A famous haunt for strange people and beings. The Dursleys wouldn't miss him; they would think he had run off with all his freaks as they so put it.

He growled lowly as he thought about them.

Muggles. Disgusting. He actually felt a shred of sympathy for Voldemort when it came to them. He stared down at the dead body and curled his lip.

_Oh, well,_ it was his final thought on the matter.

At half past midnight, Harry hoisted Dudley onto his back, marveling at the odd sense of lightness as he poked out from behind the bushes and then set off with fast speed and insane reflexes. His body reacted before his mind, jumping over things and dodging trees that got into his way.

The wooded area he got too was about ten miles from the Dursleys and the area was known for its run down risky behaviour. Harry scanned the area, seeing nothing and then set to work until he realized he had nothing to burn him with. He threw Dudley carelessly onto the ground, causing him to roll lifelessly.

He stood there, thinking swiftly before coming up with an idea when he smelled smoke from a few miles away. He smirked, feed and steal, his instincts told him and he was off in a flash.

The ragged human was once again male; Harry didn't stop as he rushed by and swept him up by the waist before the person had time to acknowledge what happened. He broke the stranger's neck, sank his oddly normal looking teeth into the flesh as he stepped just on the inside of the woods and drained him to death before snagging his lighter.

He didn't know if vampires left prints or not but it wouldn't matter being burned anyway, would it? He thought setting to work making a fire and as he did, he wondered why he didn't care. He peered down at the unknown man and deduced he was about twenty-five.

He probably had a wife and kids.

Again, Harry felt nothing and he knew that without feeling remorse that he was some kind of monster. He had to be.

The former Harry never would have done this. He would be a crying heaping mess and he knew it. He could see his 'human' self hunched over sobbing uncontrollably. Unconsciously he set blaze to the pile of wood before first dumping the new one on top, being thinner he would be consumed quicker. He didn't even flinch at the smell of burning flesh nor did he turn away as the heated flames of orange, red, and dabs of blue smoldered the body peeling away his clothing and attacking the flesh until it melted and then burned black.

The scent was potent, oh yeah, but Harry wasn't sickened more than he was annoyed. He heaved Dudley onto the fire and once again, remained motionless throughout the destruction of evidence.

He checked around the area for any remains that could possibly have his fingerprints if vampires had them to begin with before disappearing out of the wood.

He was satiated and the latest scent of a human didn't make him so hungry. Sure, he wanted to leap and pounce but that was easily taken care of. He took an alternate route back to Privet Drive and froze when he stepped into the backyard of the still house. He could smell them, he could smell the neighbors, and even Mrs. Figg and her cats and it was as he was thinking about the squib and her annoying felines that he came to a realization.

Animals had blood.

He would have slapped himself on the forehead but he resisted. How thick of him! Why hadn't he thought of it before? He grumbled and berated his sense of stupidity. Oh, Snape would love to hear this, he thought darkly.

Quickly and swiftly, he held his breath and rushed through the house. Not a sound was heard, not even the creaking of the steps as he moved like liquid to his room that hadn't been touched since the dawn of the day before.

He tore off his shirt and stuffed it into his trunk and he thought briefly about going to bed when he realized that he wasn't tired.

He sat there for how long he didn't know but he glared at the half crescent moon strung in the sky until the sun rose and that was when he actually moved an inch.

What a waste of a night, Harry thought darkly as heard movement from his aunt's bedroom and talk about how Dudley hadn't come in last night. He heard them so clearly that they could have been sitting right next to him. It was as if the walls didn't exist at all.

It was as he flipped open his trunk as gently as possible when he paused at the reflection in the mirror. In movies and fantasy books he knew that vampires could not see their reflection but Harry was going to chalk that up to bull-shit entertainment and stared blankly while surprised buzzed around his head. He straightened and stalked over and stared a few inches away into the full length mirror hanging on his wardrobe.

The first thing he noticed was the bloody crimson that swallowed the whites and black pupil of his eyes. Another prominent thing was, he was taller and perhaps a little more filled out than he had been when he was human.

It was like his genes had completely altered and with his glasses gone he looked… different. The scar was gone having healed over completely. He brushed his fingertips to his forehead instinctively and broke off into a smirk. That was a plus and that didn't count the speed and other inhuman assets he now possessed.

His hair was almost the same, what changed was the fact that his face was sharper and well defined at the edge of his jaws and curved up his cheek and the dusty black hair that was usually a mop like mess was more like a swept back inky black contrasting drastically with his pale skin.

He did not look like a child but he didn't look like a full grown adult either. His height was easily above five foot nine. He was somewhere in between a teenager and an older teenager. He could pass for nineteen at best.

He flexed his hands faster than humans could and leaned in closer to inspect the rest of his body and then he stilled and remained like that way for quite some time until he clearly heard Uncle Vernon actually kiss his aunt (he shuddered) and take each and every step out the door and onto the pavement. He unconsciously followed the movements and even heard the silent wheezing from the man's breathing.

He could hear his aunt making phone calls and he could even hear the woman on the other like, Mrs. Polkiss who had no idea where Dudley had went off too and promised to call a couple of his friends that lived nearby.

He attempted to tune them out but it was hard, it wasn't like a radio that he could flip on and off, they were always there.

He grumbled and fished through for some old clothes, swiftly getting into them and tying a cloak around his frame aware of how small it was but it was enough to cover his head. He grabbed some gold, invisibility cloak, and his wand before waiting for when Petunia went out to get the mail. When he did, he efficiently slipped out the backdoor and rushed through the forest at blinding speed.

He allowed himself a small smile, running like this was almost like flying. His feet barely touched the ground and no tree would ever get into his way again. He was so swift and silent that not even the birds took flight in surprise.

He was easily the world's most perfect hunter.

He hissed through his teeth when he approached the sidewalk in perfect human strides. He held his breath refusing to breath in the air as he hesitated briefly, he could hear the brushing of a rag along a bar counter and would guess that it was Tom the Innkeeper and he could hear and smell the flow of Magical Blood and he remembered what the vampire had said, Magical Blood was poison.

It smelled delectable, Harry thought easing out some breath between his teeth. He sucked it up once more and pulled the door gently open, and stepped in.

Tom gazed up and was about to greet him with a toothy smile but he shrank back as if his instincts were calling out to him that Harry was dangerous. He bowed his head and didn't even speak and for that Harry was glad.

He maneuvered around the empty tables and took note of the only two people in the pub which were a young couple that were older than Hogwart's students. He eased out the back silently, they hadn't even noticed. He tapped his wand along the alley and it opened revealing the cobblestoned alley for all its glory but Harry didn't stay to enjoy the sights that had been closed off to him since he was fourteen and instead took the detour down the aged brick passage that took him into beyond the rusted copper gates of Diagon Alley and into dark and water dripping street of Knockturn.

He ignored Borgin and Burke's knowing very well that there was nothing there that would help him in the slightest. Harry continued beyond tugging his hood to hide his features from any tramp on the street. He found Potions shops and even an age-old wand shop with a dimly lit light. He hummed in his head briefly at stopping in after he found a bookstore.

Odd trinkets of things Harry didn't want to know about, strange heirlooms that were rolling with cursed magic and even tainted with a blood that Harry wouldn't touch if he were on the brink of insanity. He didn't know if vampires could die of thirst or not and he didn't want to test it but he would like to find out.

He wanted to know all the facts and fictions of his species and perhaps how to go about hiding some of his most prominent features.

Harry stopped when he saw an aged sign, "Hsian Scrolls."

There were two pulses inside, one in the back and the other most likely at the counter. He could hear flipping of pages and stared blankly down at a rat that had dared to scuttle by. He was checking for any followers and there was one and she was a squib and a whore.

She came up behind him at the exact same time that he reached around ignoring whatever assets she had behind a trench cloak and drew her close causing her to gasp and give a strangled, 'ooh,' before his mouth sank into her neck.

No one was on the street not that they would care anyway; he kept his hood up and drained her until the life left her body. He frowned, knowing he probably shouldn't have done that before shoving her up against the wall and tilting her head so that it looked like she were passed out drunk rather than sucked dry for entirely different reasons than what she ever had in mind.

He shook his head quicker than he should have, what a waste, he thought apathetically. He turned on his heel after wiping the blood from his mouth and entered the shop, thankful no tinkling noise of a bell above like most shops.

The man didn't even look up; he was aged and haggard with a well worn expression on his face.

Harry scanned the rows of books from where he stood making out the titles perfectly, he could even see the thin layers of dust and smell it and he was sure if he had been human he'd have sneezed.

He found all legal books on the outer shelves before walking up to the man and tapped his finger causing him to huff and glare up only to freeze when Harry barely lifted his hood to reveal blood red eyes.

"Interesting books," Harry said with a sideways smirk and at the same time showing off pearly white teeth that gave the man no doubt to what he was.

He shut his own book and stared around before motioning for Harry to follow. He didn't ask for a name and Harry didn't offer one but he was taken to a massive area in the very back inlaid with volumes of immense perfection and rarity.

"All you shall find on everything you shall ever need," he rasped out.

"Thank you," Harry said coolly and stood where he was while scanning each copy under his hood. He was left to his own devices and he searched for the other heartbeat to see that it was still in the very back where it belonged.

He would allow no one to sneak up on him, not now.

He walked to the end and turned to the right and disappeared between the high shelves and found what he was looking for on the corner wall. He pulled them, opening each and flipping through with insane speed.

_Vampires and Lich_

_Traditionally, vampires are transcendence from Muggle to a creature with a capable ability similar to magic. Bringing over their strongest traits as they passed, some become exceptional wielders of their developed powers and can notably pass off as a witch or wizard. However, typical vampires cannot use wands for they do not have a magical core. They have mere instincts and abilities that followed them over. _

_However, the Lich is an entirely different species all together. A rare and often extinct species that requires an inherit amount of Magical Power to survive. In laymen terms a Lich is a wizard or witch who has been turned by another vampire. Very few live through the excruciating experience to become one with immortality. The taste of Magical Blood to an ordinary vampire is poisonous and is fatal. _

_The Lich however is an exception to the laws, their power strong enough to maintain a stability with their magical cores while taking on all the traits a vampire would acquire such as: inhuman reflexes, speed, sharp eye-sight, enhanced hearing, strength, and the capabilities of a predator so dangerous that the Ministry of Magic have deemed them to be excluded from laws pertaining to Beasts and Beings. _

_The Lich is not often found and those who become Lich and hide their powers are referred to the Magical World as Warlocks for their powers exceed that of a wizard greatly. Below are a list of known myths from Lich and Vampires that have stepped forward in pride. _

_Myth: _

_All forms of daylight burn or destroy a living Lich/Vampire: This is not true, many Lich/Vampire prefer the day over night however good their sight may be. The only consequence the direct sunlight has on a Lich or Vampire's stone like skin is the fact that it illuminates in a way that a human could only dream of. _

_Crosses, Holy Water, Stakes, and other forms of so-called 'tools' for a vampire/Lich execution: No, Vampire/Lich are named immortal for a reason, the only true way to execute a vampire is to rip each and every limb apart starting with the head and burning every piece together before they can reform back to themselves or a once muggle vampire coming in contact with a witch and wizard and being too weak to sense the blood of a magic wielder. Vampire/Lich is feared for a reason. _

_Lich/Vampire have permanent amnesia on their former lives: While this may be true for a muggle turned vampire but this is not true for a Lich. They retain memories that are foggy in the beginning due to the amount of magic and venom that spreads through the body shifting and molding it together to make a place for the two separate entities to coexist with one another. _

_Lich/Vampire can feed off humans freely without causing death or harm so long as they don't drain: Very wrong, both a Lich/Vampire consume blood and go into a frenzy, once the blood hits their mouths they are locked and nothing else matters until the blood has been drained entirely or the Lich/Vampire becomes full and satiated from hunger. There is no such thing as taking a small drink and stopping. _

_Lich/Vampire have fangs: No, they don't. They have pearly razor sharp teeth that look very human. The difference in these teeth however is that they form a poisonous venom that they can freely inject into their prey to hold them still, drink, or attempt to turn should they be able to resist the frenzy. _

_Lich/Vampire can eat normal food and drink: No, they cannot. If they swallow anything other than blood it will have to come back out. Lich/Vampires detest human food and keep away from it as much as possible. It may smell good but to the taste it is anything but appetizing. _

Harry stared at it in shock. The page went on, talking about how their bodies were coated in venom stilling everything human that they possessed on the inside of their bodies except for the brain which is the only part that remains human and kept from becoming mindless living dead known as Inferi.

The Dementors are also known as corrupted sort of Lich that were created by an unknown dark wizard in the early 1600s.

He closed the book and took several more from the stash before walking out and placing them on the desk.

He eyed all six. "One hundred galleons."

Harry dropped the bag with fifty extra in it and disappeared out the door without another word. His mind was whizzing and tumbling with all the information. It would take some time to absorb. He didn't so much as cast a glance at the whore slumped in the same deadened position he had left her in and instead stepped over her sprawled legs and headed toward the wand shop.

Perhaps Knockturn Alley would have something special for him?

* * *

A/N: I hope that explains some of it for some of you who don't know. I did add my own stuff to it, but I really do like the idea of Vampires looking normal without the fangs. That's mainly what I adopted, the Lich is what I got off of, yes, if you didn't guess already it is from World of Warcraft but as I said I put another spin on it. (laughs)


	3. Chapter Two

**Bittersweet Symphony**

**By: Amanda**

**Chapter Two**

He sat in a corner booth of the Spiny Serpent, a dark looming pub with stranger than strange creatures and visitors that more than wizard and witch. The bartender was a handsome guy with pepper gray hair with deep prominent lines running from his eyes down to his cheeks and an attractive young female who tended was in her early twenties at best, dark brown hair pinned in a bun with a small lithe figure. The two had the same eyes and they even had the same scent of blood which told Harry they were probably father and daughter.

Their blood smelled amazing, Harry thought shivering slightly at the thought but he was fine. The whore had filled him enough for now. He would work on something more later, he couldn't go around killing frivolously even though it was easy and he was shameless.

After cursory glances around the room he rested his hands on the front of the dark blue edged book and thought about his visit to the wand shop. He didn't get a new wand or anything of the sort, to be honest Harry didn't really want a new wand, he liked his and he would feel that it was a betrayal to everything that was his wand. It was a part of him.

He juggled the idea whether Vampires or rather Lich had souls but he was sure that no one truly knew the answer to that and so he didn't dwell on it too much.

The wand shop, ah, it was a strange sort of place and Harry wouldn't have been able to get a new one without revealing who he was and that wasn't happening any time soon. But he had received some valuable information like the extraction of the tracer built into his wand could be severed with a few quick incantations that were forbidden by law.

The bloke was persuadable enough, everyone in the alley was able to be ruled by money, just like the Muggle world, money made the world go round.

He tilted his head to the side in thought even though he didn't need to do such things but it was best that he practiced being human as much as possible.

His tracer was gone and he even tested his wand on the female dead by levitating her near the rubbish bins. He didn't know enough transfiguration to do a Barty Crouch Jr. yet but in due time he would.

What he did discover was that all of his spells were amplified. His Levitation Charm had nearly torn the woman's head off as she went zooming up and hit the ragged poor excuse for a rain gutter.

He would have to take care and practice well and perhaps surpass Hermione this year. He had nothing else to do while sitting and waiting for school to start. He realized that Vampires and Lich did not sleep, he also discovered that even though they were stilled forms on the inside like statues somehow both the male and female were able to keep their hormones for sexuality and it was a known fact in one of the pages that Lich and Vampires were insatiable for sexual feasts mingled with blood.

If Harry could have, he probably would have blushed tenfold reading half of the stuff and he thought for a moment that he might have felt a little warm under the collar. He had ordered a dry sort of whisky but he didn't dare drink and instead randomly put it to his lips while using his wand discreetly to spell some of it away.

He was sure that a few knew what he was but those who didn't; he'd like to keep it that way. At least they had no clue as to who he was and he knew that would pose a nasty problem for him.

He checked the time briefly out of the corner of his eye. It was almost six and he was still going through the book of facts now that he was done with the fiction and was shocked to find that while female Vampires and Lich could not carry children or bare them the male's could produce a volatile seed to impregnate a human.

He went searching for something to hide his identity and found a section on Potions that did and did not work on Lich and Vampire.

Sadly, Veriteserum did work. Polyjuice Potion did not. Felix Felicis did not (which Harry only discovered what it was after digging into Potion book he had snatched along the way). However he was in luck for Scent Altering Potions/Charms and Eye Changing Potions/Charms worked well.

Usually, if a vampire tried human contacts they would dissolve within an hour or so because of the venom same with human hair dye and other cosmetics. Also, to humans a vampire's skin was like that of flawless marble and stone while theirs resembled a plush stuffed animal easily damageable.

There was no such thing as a Soul Mate but there were Vampires who loved and they were insanely possessive/jealous of their mate's once they acquired one. It was dangerous for both parties especially if one happened to be human but it wasn't impossible.

He sat back and pretended to nurse his drink and made his ankles cross a time or two while tapping his fingers humanly against the table. He was careful to keep them gentle knowing what would happen if he used even a margin of his strength.

He should get back to the Dursleys. He was sure that they would be grilling him about Dudley's whereabouts and he would have to remain innocent and even offer to use his 'abilities' to search but of course he would find nothing.

He'd play the perfect nephew and he really couldn't help but find a terrible bone-chilling thrill about how his uncle and aunt would react when they actually found the remains of their son.

Oh God, he really was a monster. He smiled behind his hood, what else was he to do? He could fight it all he wanted but he knew he'd be fighting a losing battle. If what the book said was true and all of his strongest traits were passed over then he was positive that his hatred for certain things and people had also been passed over.

He may have been a Golden boy Gryffindor but that didn't mean he didn't have hate in his heart. He had possessed Voldemort's Cursed Mark for more than a decade and even if the Dark Lord hadn't been around that made no difference when it came to the dark effect it had on Harry.

Harry however would be very careful how he used his hatred and thoughts; he would not be foolish to make any mistakes if he could help it.

Albus Dumbledore would definitely be one of them.

He gathered all his books and dropped a galleon beside his drink for the tender to get and swept silently out of the room. He would focus on a new wardrobe later but for now, he needed to pick up some ingredients for the potions which seemed to last longer than spells.

He needed green eyes again lest he be caught.

When Harry got home, he got the inquiries he expected. He put on his best frown along with the very temporary glamour charm that wouldn't last longer than an hour and wouldn't full any wizard not even Neville Longbottom. "That's not like Dud," he said softly as Aunt Petunia tittered in worry.

"I know!" she squeaked.

Uncle Vernon breathed deep. "He'll be fine, he's probably just off with one of his friends."

"I called all of his friends!" she squeaked in frantic.

"You know, Aunt Petunia," Harry said slowly and gently. "I know you two, don't like what I am or the people I associate with but we are known trackers with our abilities."

Her eyes sharpened and Uncle Vernon frowned. She stared at him. "Why do you care?"

Harry sighed. "Aunt Petunia, we may have had disagreements in the past and I may sometimes want to kick your bratty arse son in the mouth a time or two but I would not want my own cousin to turn up missing. Whether it means anything to you or not you are my last blood relative," he said turning his voice up to an imploring musical timber.

She quivered and bowed her head in acknowledgement. "P- please, bo- Harry?"

Uncle Vernon sat stock still. "Do it," he ordered but it had no heat. "Call them people of yours."

"Of course, I'll get right on it." As soon as he made the Potions of course, he thought whizzing from the room like he was in a hurry.

There was a small glitch in Harry's so-called swift plan; while his magic was amplified from his transformation it had no affect whatsoever on Potions. He botched the first two with disdain using his magic to clear the spills and start again. The stuff was supposed to take two days to make and he only hoped that his relatives would by the fact that it took days to reach _his_ people.

Although, technically, Harry wasn't sure if he was supposed to call them his people. He wasn't exactly a human anymore and his disdain grew by each passing day when he received no valuable information on the happenings in his world.

He clicked his teeth as he added a sprinkle of lavender and newt. The lavender was supposed to hide rather than nullify the the traces added to his Magical Signature and it would alter to fit his looks by changing his eyes to green and if anyone asked about the glasses he would tell them he brewed the potion to correct it temporarily.

Five days and as soon as it was perfected, Harry wrinkled his nose at the scent before chugging it down while standing in front of the mirror.

The only thing he noticed was the change of his eyes and a strange sloshing sensation inside before it actually stuck to what Harry was going to deduce as the venom inside and he imagined in his mind's eye that it dissolved and hopefully he would be masked. Luckily, he was sixteen and growth spurts were expected and the only thing they could really comment on was his pale skin but the July cold weather was another good excuse to play on them.

He quickly set to writing a letter and asked Hedwig to make haste.

It was then that he told his relatives that they should receive word in a day or two.

"Currently, they are jumping from place to place to remain undetected but Hedwig is good like that, she can find anything," he assured as Aunt Petunia placed a hand to her heart and Uncle Vernon swallowed down the chunks of bacon on his plate. He said nothing and let it be; apparently, when it came to Dudley they'd do anything.

Ah, to have parents like that, huh? Harry would never know, he thought bitterly as he walked away.

oOo

Harry's human gestures were down after practicing them day in and day out while reading. He even learned to hold food in his mouth even though he longed to gag and throw it back up. It tasted like slime or glue that he tried to eat when he was a little boy.

It was disgusting to say the least.

He was sitting by the window sill on the rare sunny day, he had his hand out and the sunlight on his skin was nice but startling. He stared at the radiant glow and it was like a million beaded diamonds imbedded into his skin. He rushed a finger along it staring dazedly at it until he felt a heartbeat of an animal and the blood pumping through its veins. It wasn't Hedwig; he knew her smell and watched as a gray miniature owl fluttered through with a hooting grace.

He watched it confused as to who it was but he smelled a strange perfumed scent from the lime green letter attached to its foot.

He took the letter, surprised that the owl wasn't afraid of him. Hedwig had been spooked senseless for five whole days until landed on his head, nipped him in what she thought was a hard way and then … well she pooped on his head for his change without warning her first.

Harry forgave her. She was the only person who knew his secret and yes he treated her as a person. He wasn't human but he was a person and Hedwig wasn't human but she was more of a person than most people.

The owl landed on his shoulder and Harry was thankful Hedwig wasn't around; he didn't need her bitching to him with flaps and other incidents that were most unpleasant.

He saw loopy wild and crazy handwriting in black letters with Harry's name emblazed on the front. He turned it over twice before plucking it apart only to have a black beaded chain fall out into his lap. He could smell magic and heat coming off it along with the scent of the same perfume.

_Dear Harry James Potter, _

_The Whistling Whimpers have spoken to me from my sleep. You know they like to make nests in my mindscape? They do all the time and they tell me the strangest things. _

… Harry paused and then he laughed musically to nothing in particular.

Luna. Only one person had a mind like hers. He clearly remembered being startled by her strange words and rhymes but after what she had done for him and he didn't mean the Department of Mysteries fiasco, he would never forget. Unlike Ron and Hermione, she too had suffered at a young age and he respected her for it. Curious, he read on, if anything it would give him a little amusement for his dull days and nights.

_Well, the Whistling Whimpers showed me a gnarled Gunflefang hurt you some odd nights ago. I was really worried about my dream and thought I would write to you and share it. You have strange dreams to don't you? You have those Whistling Whimpers in your mindscape, huh? Telling you things that you don't really want to know or really want to hear or believe that it is your right to invade others privacies. I am sorry about the Gunflefang and I hope that my dream was only that but just in case, I have given you a necklace I created. I hope you like it and consider it an early birthday gift. I hope this letter finds you well and that no more Gunflefangs get near you in the future. _

_Good-bye Harry Potter, _

_Luna Lovegood._

Harry stared stunned stupid, the owl made a cooing noise like that of a pigeon. What did she know? What did she see? He had deduced her weird little fairytales were more than that but he had always thought that they were a way to escape the eyes of people who would leer or jeer at her. A way to keep others out and away. It was a good rouse but did her strange little creations mean something more?

He was confused, but he had no time to dwell on it as he picked the chain up and examined it. She was an interesting person, he thought wildly curious. He sensed no harm in it, not that he would in the first place, this was Luna Lovegood not some asshole with a killer's intent and her name had been omitted along with the others in the Daily Prophet and so no one truly knew of her friendly connection with him.

To everyone, she was just the weird lunatic of Hogwarts.

Harry frowned. She was a weird lunatic about as much as he was human.

He was sure of it.

(o)

_**Luna**_ – No, she's not a Seer, before you ask. To me, I have always thought Luna had a strange ability in Divination. She seems to know things before they happen and I've always thought she had an ability that Trelawney could only dream of ever having. Harry is one of the few people who she could consider her friend and thus she would be very in tune with his feelings. I've always written Luna that way and it's always worked. Hope you like. =)


	4. Chapter Three

**Bittersweet Symphony**

**By: Amanda**

**Chapter Three**

Harry was free to walk the streets of Diagon Alley and no one was any wiser. It was literally amazing what a small lightning shaped scar could do to a person's entire existence. He had made a quick stop at Gringotts and lucky for him no one was in line and the goblins didn't really give a damn so long as he produced the key. He changed over enough gold for Muggle currency and then set off for some real shopping for the first time in how long he didn't know.

Harry never was one to enjoy shopping but he had today, considering he felt free. If anyone asked his name he used Blake Aneirin. Aneirin had been a sixth century Welsh Poet and Harry thought it would be fitting for both the Muggle world and Magical world to use a not-so odd name yet one with originality.

Even if he was no longer Harry Potter with the scar and glasses, he however was, 'That gorgeous bloke that smelled good.' According to the few women he had passed by on the streets.

He would have blushed if he could, never had he ever expected that to come out of these results. He was really a simpleton or so he thought but obviously that's not what they believed. It actually kind of felt good to be referred to as good looking, he didn't have an ego nor was he arrogant, all his life he'd been teased because of being so small and with glasses and awkward messy mop like hair but now… he was different.

He collected his school supplies and added several books on top of that. He was going to have a very boring year considering sleep would never come to him again. He made an account with Flourish and Blotts and they would update him every month with catalogues and new reading material.

He did the same with a smaller yet shadier bookshop on the edge of Knockturn but still in Diagon Alley as he shrunk down everything in a small bag and feather charmed it so that it was easier to carry.

The last stop on his morning journey which had turned into the afternoon was Madam Malkins.

He tried not to flinch at the scents that assaulted him and his mind buzzed and the monster that he was seemed excited. Something inside smelled delicious, Harry braced himself and pushed that part of him down. He'd been feeding on animals lately and he was trying to keep that habit but it was hard.

Animals did not compare to the lovely taste of humans. He heard a familiar annoying voice but he had no idea who it was or why it was familiar.

He slipped silently in and stood with his back to the door and took in the teenage female with curly black hair and light gray eyes. She was frowning and he saw why, a rather bitchy blond haired male with a gorgeous mother that didn't look any older than twenty-five was humoring him.

"Mother, I don't like this place!" he hissed. "She keeps grabbing my arm."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, who were they? Why did he recognize the bitch boy? He wondered.

"It won't be long honey, just ten more minutes, please!" she simpered and the boy glared at her before swirling around on his heel and walking through the curtains toward the back.

They were rich, their blood smelled pure but the woman's was more appetizing and it made him hungry.

The young girl wrinkled her nose and then gasped when she saw Harry in the doorway. She blushed straight to the roots of her hair. "Uhm, hello?"

Harry stepped forward. "Good afternoon, miss, I'm looking for a new wardrobe today, do you think you could help me?" he asked silkily causing her eyes to dilate as she leaned forward.

"Oh, yes! What are you looking for?" she asked clambering off the stool.

She was rather short. He could hear the brat's whiny voice from all the way out here and his mother's gentle words to keep him there.

How annoying, he thought.

"Hogwart's robes, dress robes, and every day robes."

She led him through the curtains to see the chubby squat owner of the shop staring exasperated at the blond as she sized him up.

"Romalda darling, who do you have there?" she asked causing everyone's eyes to flicker over.

"A new customer," Romalda answered as the boy's gaze narrowed and the woman simply stared and he was sure he could smell the blood rise in her as her pale cheeks were dusted.

"Excellent! There's a free stool just over there," she said as Harry gave her a blinding smile.

"Thank you, Madam," Harry said evenly and followed the young girl over and stepped out of his shoes briskly and stood up onto the stool.

She blushed. "M- may I ask you to remove your jacket?"

Harry did so and draped across a nearby rack and the tape measure flew up and began to get his measurements. While this was going on, Harry was trying to deduce who the two light haired people were. The memory was so foggy that he couldn't make heads or tails of it and he knew that the boy was more familiar because he was irritated by simply looking at him.

The woman he had a feeling he didn't know at all and perhaps knew her by name when he was human. But who? They both smelled of dark magic.

He didn't stare at them, he didn't need to.

When she inquired about what he wished after his school robes he told her a dozen black basic robes, three silk black cloaks with a hood, five sets of crimson, gray, hunter, navy blue, and dark purple with all the special charms embedded into them. He ordered a set of dragonhide black, dark blue, and gray boots. He asked for two sets of dress robes, one silver and black and the other crimson and black and he would leave the design and collaboration up to them.

He ignored the boy named Draco and the woman by his side as he followed Romalda to ring everything up.

"What are their names?" Harry asked bending down to whisper.

She shuddered and took in a breath as the blood literally flooded the pockets of her cheeks. "Malfoy," she managed to whisper back, "I go to school with him and he's an idiot."

Harry nodded and straightened. Malfoy, that name did ring a bell and it was at that moment the memory of dual blond males settled into his mind. One with long silver blond hair with a silver headed snake cane which concealed his wand and finally glass ice eyes.

He recalled a diary and a little redheaded girl and then an elf. All of these memories flooded him and he saw in his mind's eye that he had dueled the both of them. The younger one on more occasions and he realized that they were school rivals.

But Draco Malfoy hadn't been important enough for Harry to give a shit or even remember. He was weak and he followed his father like a puppy. The woman was obviously his mother and he still couldn't recall her name.

He shrugged so minimally that the young girl hadn't even noticed.

"You mentioned Hogwarts?" Romalda asked tentatively as she rang him up.

Harry flashed her a smile. "Sure did."

"What house?"

"Gryffindor."

She gasped. "You too!? What's your name! I've never seen you before!" she said practically bouncing with excitement.

Harry thought about it. She couldn't see that he had no scar for his wild mess of hair draped spider-like over his forehead and so what would it matter? He dropped the two hundred gold from a velvet blue pouch. "Harry Potter at your service."

He grabbed his packages and left just as he heard a gasp and then a thud and chuckled quietly, knowing that she had fainted.

He left the Magical World and reentered the Muggle as he began to think about his former life. He didn't really know how he felt toward anyone and so he would wait before he made any moves. He would watch very carefully how everyone treated him when they saw him again, Dumbledore included.

Right now, he only felt bitter and no vengeance unless an indiscretion caused him to feel such. He really truly had no thoughts about anyone at the moment. Not even Voldemort bothered him, for one the scar was gone and his memories were still foggy.

So, the man killed? He would be a hypocrite if he used that as a motive to despise a person. It was all up to them on where Harry would settle down. Personally, he would rather take no side and if he was forced, he would gladly do so. But if there were benefits for him, he would jump at one side or another.

He took a bus into the heart of London and found the shopping centre's that he'd been hunting for. Now, for some more shopping. He had a small black bag on his wrist where all his stuff from Diagon Alley rested and he found a shop that may have what he liked.

It was two hours later and had Harry been a human, he would have easily been exhausted. The women in the shop were insatiable the way they acted over him. He literally heard them fighting over who would help him.

It was almost eight when he appeared on Privet Drive; he was filled with deer, which was most definitely not his favourite.

He came into the sitting room to see his aunt holding a parchment filled letter and Uncle Vernon sitting beside her.

"Everything alright?" Harry asked putting on his sympathy mask.

"Your people wrote back, they'll be here in the morning."

A bitter sensation came over him and he wasn't entirely sure why but he nodded. "I'm sure they'll find them."

She told him swiftly that there was dinner for him in the refrigerator. He wrinkled his nose as he left to get it and dump it elsewhere. Funny, he thought darkly as he pulled it out. She was actually feeding him what would be half decent food if he could stand the sight of it.

He fed the chicken to Hedwig who had returned before dumping the rest of it down the toilet.

He spent the night rereading all his school books; he didn't want to dig into his new stuff yet. He wanted to save it because he knew he would get bored soon. He was dressed by six in the morning.

He had on some of what he bought in the Muggle World. A pair of dark denim jeans loosely fitting against his hips with a black belt and a hunter green blank t-shirt that stretched against his chest a bit and a thin black leather hip length jacket.

Harry realized after a second glance in the mirror that his scar missing was going to be a problem. He was happy that it was gone but what would Dumbledore say? How suspicious would he be? Harry thought of saying that he hid it underneath makeup but then he recalled Mad Eye Moody and that his ability at seeing through things.

Dammit! Harry stood stiff while trying to think but he got nowhere. After a bit he took Luna's necklace and clipped it around his neck. He would have to write her back and thank her.

The piece of jewelry felt warm and it sat like choker. He touched it and glanced over only to stare at his reflection. The magic in the necklace had restored his scar on his forehead, he brushed a finger across it marveling and wondering how Luna knew.

He wondered what else it did. The timing couldn't have been more perfect because three abnormal Magical Scents filtered through the room. He crossed and leaned out the window and saw over into the next street and the street after that. He had gotten used to all the smells around Privet Drive and he had even gotten used to his relatives blood.

He frowned. He knew them but he didn't know them. A shaggy brown-headed man with scars along his cheek and neck. He was wearing old clothes, tan khaki's and a brown sweater. The female of the group had long bright blue hair and she was small and fragile looking with tiny shoulders and he noticed before she even did that she was going to trip and when she did the dark skinned tall man with a gold earring snagged her by the elbow to keep her from smashing her face into the ground.

He pulled back and turned away trying to figure out who they were. The brown headed one seemed the most familiar. The closer they got the more potent they smelled and he was sent reeling back when a very horrible scent cast around him.

He could have actually coughed as he cringed minimally. What was it? It smelled like a dog.

His eyes widened and he nearly slapped his forehead.

Remus Lupin. His former teacher and a former friend of his parents and his godfather. He remembered now and he was also a werewolf.

Oh shit. He hadn't thought about the fact that a werewolf might be able to sense him.

He cursed again as he stood there trying to brace himself. His cover was going to be blown, he knew it would be.

He left the room and found Aunt Petunia doing what she'd done for the last few days of Dudley missing, cleaning. It was spick and span, she was dusting the frames and her eyes glittered when she stared at her beach ball son as a baby.

"They're here," Harry told her as she jumped having not heard him.

She practically dropped the duster as Harry opened the door and remained in the shade of the house.

"_Harry!_" Remus called but it sounded to Harry as though he were screaming.

"Hey guys," Harry said lowering his voice and trying to keep the strange musical quality that he'd developed out of it. Harry watched the woman trip again and resisted his reflexes in catching her.

"Tonks please walk straight," the black man said with a slight smile before approaching Harry. "How you doing Harry?" He was looking at Harry closely and noticed his change.

"Wow," the girl named Tonks said in awe. "You've changed Harry! Wotcher!"

"How did I change?" Harry asked eyeing a startled Remus who drew closer.

Tonks stared at him in a daze. Remus frowned slightly. "Where are your glasses?"

"Oh, I got Muggle contacts."

Remus stepped forward as if to hug him but Harry instinctively stepped back. "Come on in," he said walking further into the house to keep a distance between him and the werewolf. He was on edge and he was just waiting for the man to realize something was off on him.

"Aunt Petunia, they're here!"

Tonks was staring at him from the doorway. "Man, Harry, you've grown up!"

Harry flashed her a smile which made her actually blush. It was nice that she recognized him so easily; he wished he could say the same for her. He definitely didn't recognize the black guy, he was familiar but in a very vague way and he knew that once the fog left his mind, he'd know who they were. But they were obviously not very significant in his prior life. They had been just there.

His aunt had gone upstairs to get refreshed and came down and smiled in a strained way.

"Mrs. Dursley," Remus stepped forward holding out his name. He shot Harry a curious look briefly. "I'd like to formally introduce you to Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks who prefers Tonks. The two of them are Aurors or what you guys would consider police officers."

Tonks waggled her fingers. "We'll do all we can to help you find your son. Do you have a picture of him?"

With their names came flashes of memories once more and an old creaky house and a Hall filled with strange silver orbs. He saw a fight break out and Tonks and Kingsley had been a part of that fight. It was the Hall of Prophecy and the end of his godfather's life.

He knew that much.

Aunt Petunia had a million pictures and she went through them all for an hour while the wizards stood around her all of them asking questions. Harry leaned his shoulder against the threshold of the living room and tried to remain as human as possible by twitching things.

Remus kept casting him glances but he didn't look the wolf in the face.

Remus seemed to get some courage for he came over to Harry. "How are you doing, Harry?" he asked concerned and he realized that Remus must be in pain from Sirius.

Harry didn't feel pain and he was a little sad to say that while he had cared about Sirius, remembering the man was kind of hard. He was vague like everyone else.

"I'm doing well, Remus," Harry said with a nod. "What about you?"

"I'm getting by," Remus said with a slight smile. "I – can't help but notice…."

"What?" Harry asked.

"You, smell different."

"Cologne?" Harry tried.

Laughing, Remus scratched the back of his head. "I guess so, but I'm not sure. Your scent is muffled like you've disguised it. But you smell good, too good."

Harry chuckled. "I don't swing that way," he teased causing the wolf to choke and blush.

Tonks who heard giggled furiously.

"No, no! I didn't mean it that way," he stammered.

"Calm down, Moony," he chided before he could think of why he said the name. "I'm trying to lighten you up, damn."

"Yeah, Remus! I've told you so many times to lighten up," Tonks said grinning.

"Sorry," Remus said sheepishly.

"So, what's going on in our world?" Harry asked and it was then that both Remus and Tonks went quiet. Harry arched an eyebrow and waited patiently as they exchanged glances as if trying to convey their thoughts without speaking in front of him.

This was beginning to look bad, for them.

"Nothing much," Tonks said smiling falsely.

"Besides getting a new Minister who doesn't really see eye to eye with Dumbledore that's all we can say."

"Right," Harry said stiffly.

"Harry, we're trying to protect you," Tonks said cheerfully. "You're very important."

Important? For what? Harry wondered bitterly. He frowned at the both of them and they flinched at it while Kingsley left his aunt's side. "I believe we should use our Point Me Charms. This shouldn't be too hard."

"Alright!" Tonks said breathing out in relief. He could hear her heart literally racing and Remus' had also picked up in tempo. His blood was a rush and it was kind of nauseating to be honest.

"Why won't you tell me?" Harry then asked pushing off the wall and blocked their exit and stared right into Remus' eyes hard. "You forgot to tell me the truth last year and look what happened, what is going on in our world?" He all but demanded. "What the hell is Voldemort doing?" he asked as Tonks flinched violently.

"Harry –" Remus began softly.

"Harry, trust us," Kingsley insisted. "We can't say anything right now, Dumbledore has asked us to be as discreet as possible and I'm sure once we are in more secure company we will be able to talk about everything more openly."

"More secure? They're just muggles, they don't know anything and Voldemort can't show up here considering the blood wards."

"Harry, please," Remus said slowly reaching out to touch his arm but Harry evaded it slowly. "Just trust us and stay safe and in the house. Don't go outside."

"That's all you're going to tell me?" Harry asked darkly.

"That's all we can tell you, Harry," Tonks said sadly. "I'm sorry, but this is Dumbledore's orders. We were told not to say a word when we arrived."

Harry stared at each of them and his eyes hardened into ice when he locked on Remus who had the decency to avert his gaze.

"That's how it is, hm. You may leave." He turned and left ignoring Remus' sudden call to come back.

Now, Harry Potter was angry.

oOo

He sat on the rooftop of Privet Drive and gazed into the dark sky. The stars couldn't be seen due to the lamps dotting the street but it was comfortable enough. His mind was filled with endless questions as to why Remus and Tonks wouldn't talk to him. They wouldn't even say what Voldemort was doing.

Why? What were they worried about? He began to burn with anger and he felt that they were deceiving him with their smiles. How important was he? He remembered all about the boy-who-lived shit and if that was what it was then they could find themselves a new important person because Harry most certainly wasn't going to fight for them if they were acting like this.

No one on that side had showed their worth yet. His old friends were just that, old and he wondered if they would accept him if they knew what he was? If they knew what he had become? He didn't know but he honestly didn't care.

He reached out and pulled the book to him. He didn't really need light; he could see the words jumping out of the pages perfectly and read silently into the night.

It was exactly two days later when the wizards found the remains of both Dudley and the no-named man buried ten miles away.

Kingsley had broken the news gently and Harry was standing there with a troubled look fixed perfectly on his face.

Tonks was rubbing her back and Vernon was staring at the TV white as a sheet.

"This doesn't look like anything more than a normal murder," Kingsley explained. "Did your son have any enemies?"

"No!" Aunt Petunia sobbed. "Never, he was a good boy. He was a sweet and kind boy."

Harry snorted too low for anyone to hear including Remus. If Harry had ever heard a rose tinted lie it was that right there.

"We have contacted your authorities so that they may do their own search, considering I do not believe anyone from our side would have done this."

"Are you sure?" Aunt Petunia asked.

Remus frowned. "They put too much work into the death to be the work of a witch or a wizard," he insisted. "I do not want to give you the details of how we found your son, not yet. You need to grieve without anymore images being conjured up in your mind."

The three of them left with hardly a word to Harry and even when he asked if he was leaving the Dursleys or not they ignored it and pretended he hadn't spoken.

This incensed Harry and made him so angry that he longed to run his hands through the walls of his room. Did they really think they could do this to him? Were they that confident of his loyalties? Hah! What would they do if they knew exactly how Dudley had been murdered. If they knew that Harry drained him and then carelessly threw him in a fire and watched him burn.

His eyes were alight and narrowed; he was glaring at nothing and yet at everything in his mind at the same time. What were they trying to prove?

Harry decided to write a letter in laymen terms, expressing that if they weren't truthful with him then he was leaving Privet Drive.

He sent it off with Hedwig and gripped the sill of the window. Those people better watch it because Harry didn't care anymore. He wasn't a wizard and all be damned if they believed he could be walked on.


End file.
